Finding Narnia
by Livily
Summary: Before Lucy stumbles into Narnia for the first time, each of the Pevensies has a fleeting encounter with the magical land they will someday rule.
1. Peter

_AN: This story is going to outline at least one experience for each of the __Pevensies__, maybe more. The chapters go in no__ particular order (meaning they're__ not all at one point, or the kids aren't all at a certain age) they kind of just happen. _

**Chapter One: Peter **

Peter Pevensie gulped as he grasped his father's hand and shakily climbed onto the horse.

"Don't worry, Peter," George consoled his nine-year-old son, "I'll be next to you the whole time."

Peter nodded, not once doubting that his father _wouldn't _be there. But still, he thought as he mistakenly looked down, it's so _high._ He tightly grasped the saddle horn as he settled onto the horse.

"Are you _sure _this is all right, Dad?" Peter asked nervously.

His father chuckled. "Of course it is, Peter. We _did _rent the cottage and stable for the next two days. Besides," he said laughingly, glancing up at the over-anxious boy, "Grandfather and I used to come out here all the time when I was your age. In fact, I think the first time I ever rode I was closer to Edmund's age!"

Peter gaped at his father, glancing over to the blanket where his mother and three younger siblings were picnicking. "But… but Ed's so little."

George grinned. "I suppose I was probably closer to Susan's age, but you understand?"

Peter lifted his chin proudly. Of course he understood. As the oldest it was his job to understand. That way he could teach the others later. "Let's go." He said confidently, sitting up straight and forcing back any further fears.

George gripped the reins, eyeing his son as the horse began to walk. Peter's jaw was clenched tightly, and George slowed the horse.

"Do you want to stop, Peter?" He asked.

The boy shook his head firmly. "I'm fine. I was the one who wanted to do this, remember?"

George nodded as they began moving again. "Aye, I remember."

Peter stared straight ahead, still grasping the saddle horn as they leisurely passed the rest of the party.

"Look at you!" His mother exclaimed, grinning as she watched her son dutifully embark on his first horse lesson.

"I wanna try!" Edmund cried, rushing toward his elder brother and father. He stumbled, and Helen extended her arms to catch her son, but instead he fell firmly on top of Susan. She grunted and shoved him off lightly.

"Edmund!" She whined, clutching the crushed chain of daisies, "You ruined it!"

Edmund squared his shoulders to retaliate, but Helen cut in, nipping the conflict before it began. "We can make you a new chain, Susan."

She pouted and sent her brother one last glare before she consented. "But only if _I _get to ride."

Although Peter had been listening to the exchange, he hadn't actually taken his eyes off of the horse's neck, afraid to see how high up he actually was. Now he turned his attention to his sister indignantly.

"You _can't_ ride, Susan." He said, reeling as he took in the distance from the ground.

Susan stuck her tongue out at him. "I can ride if I want to, right, Mum?" She turned to her mother expectantly.

Helen exchanged a look with her husband before shaking her head. "Not this year, Susan."

The girl plopped onto the ground with her arms folded. "Peter _always_ gets to do all of the fun stuff."

Helen sighed tiredly. "Next year it will be your turn, Susan, but for now why don't you play with Lucy?"

Susan turned her attention to her younger sister and couldn't help but smile as the toddler threw a handful of grass at Edmund. "I suppose that's all right." She twirled a daisy between her fingers before glaring up at Peter. "I'll do whatever I want, Peter, I just don't want to ride." She stuck her tongue out again before engaging Lucy in a clapping game.

Peter frowned, upset that Susan was mad at him. George patted his leg reassuringly and led the horse away from the family. "She'll get over it, son. She's just feeling left out. You know how much she looks up to you."

Still not entirely convinced that he wasn't at fault, Peter attempted a look over his shoulder, only to sway dangerously before safely clutching the mare's mane. George said nothing, and Peter was glad not to be babied. They proceeded in silence for a time, and Peter felt his confidence level grow as minutes without mishap increased.

"Can we go over there?" He nodded toward series of grassy hills.

George looked up at his son and nodded. "Maybe by the end of the day you'll be cantering."

Peter laughed delightedly as his father led him toward the rolling hills, a thrilled smile stretching across his face as they picked up speed.

With the warmth of the sun on his face, and a slight breeze ruffling his golden hair, Peter felt as if he could be a knight in some magical land on an important quest. He puffed up importantly, forgetting his father was at his side. It was only him and his trusty steed. The grass waved in the wind, and Peter could almost feel a sword strapped to his waist as he traveled through this wondrous land. As the laughs of his siblings drifted toward him, he realized his horse was not alone. In fact, there were three others racing beside him.

In an instant he was galloping through the fields, challenging whoever dared to beat their High King. His body was changed, though he thought nothing of it, only wishing to beat his brother and sisters to the picnic lunch they had brought along. The wind whipped his face as he pulled ahead of the other three, hearing their indignant cries fade behind him….

"Peter? Peter?" George squeezed his son's leg worriedly. "Peter, are you with me?"

Peter blinked the sun out of his eyes, gazing down at his anxious father. "What happened, Dad?"

His father laughed nervously. "I was hoping you could tell me. One minute you were gripping onto that saddle horn like your life depended on it, and the next you were spurring your poor horse. She had no idea what to think, and frankly, neither did I."

Peter looked around at the meadow, confused. Everything had seemed so real. He glanced back down at his father. "I… I was just imagining a… a game."

Realization dawned in his father's eyes as the man connected the odd circumstance with Peter's love for make-believe games. The worry was replaced by mirth as he chuckled. "Were you a grand knight?"

The horse whinnied, and Peter pursed his lips together. His father misunderstood the reason for his son's boyish pout and laughed.

"Forgive me, you were a king?"

Peter frowned at his sudden inability to remember what he had imagined… if that was the word to properly describe it. "I think it was something like that… I can't remember."

George quirked an eyebrow at his son's odd behavior, deciding it best to ignore it. "Would you rather go back and play with your brother and sisters?"

Peter stared at the meadow and its hills one last time before nodding. For some odd reason, the 'game' had shaken him badly.

Soon after returning to the rest of the family, Peter forgot his troubling experience completely. He immersed himself in a full-out grass war that didn't end until Susan declared truce, claiming she had a gift for each of them. Her two front teeth missing, she grinned proudly at her siblings as she presented each of them with a crown of daisies. Lucy laughed delightedly at the gift, countering Edmund's whines that daisies were for girlsPeter had to agree with Edmund; the daisies _were_ rather girlish, but he would never tell Susan so. Plus, he had to admit that there was something _right _about seeing them all crowned.

Even if Edmund did look ridiculous with flowers in his hair.

_AN: So? What'd you think? I hope that this hasn't been done before, but if it has, I apologize. Please review and let me know if the characters are right and how the writing is. It's so hard to write the __Pevensies__ as little kids!_

_Lily_


	2. Susan

_Chapter Two is up! This one is about Susan, and it was hard to write her as a little girl. I wanted to get her practicality, but also the passion that a child has. After all, Lucy _is _her sister._

**Chapter Two: Susan**

A seven-year-old Susan frowned up at her school teacher.

"I'll be careful! I promise!"

The teacher, Mrs. Halloway, laughed lightly. "Of course you will, Susan, but you still have to wear the smock. You don't want to get paint on your new jumper, do you?"

Susan stuck out her lower lip pitifully. "No… but it's so dirty! Besides, no one will be able to see my new clothes!" She twirled around, dark hair whipping at her face. Susan giggled as she stopped, swaying dizzily. "Please, Mrs. Halloway?"

The teacher shook her head firmly. "You have two choices, Susan. You can wear the smock and paint, or you can choose not to wear the smock. If you choose not to wear it, you cannot paint."

Susan huffed, staring longingly at the colorful paints. "But I _love _painting, Mrs. Halloway."

Mrs. Halloway said nothing, giving the girl a chance to choose.

Finally, Susan sighed, giving in. "I guess I'll wear it." She fumbled with the paint-spattered apron. "It's still ugly."

The older woman laughed, pleased that Susan had made the right decision. She moved to help the girl with the knots and said, "Don't worry, Susan, you look lovely. Just like a true artist."

Susan shot her a skeptical look before skipping toward her classmates. "At least Edmund's not here to make fun of me," she muttered, glancing down at the yucky smock.

She quickly forgot the smock, though, as she became immersed in painting. Despite her desire to stay clean, she was quickly streaking color across the page, ignoring the smock and her rainbow-colored fingers. Who cared about something like that? Susan was going to make a masterpiece. She grinned happily, envisioning her mum's reaction when she saw Susan's work of art. Unconsciously, she stuck her tongue between her teeth as she splattered paint on the paper.

"Whatcha drawin', Pevensie?"

Susan was startled out of her trance by Charlie Phillips, one of the nastiest boys in her class. She glanced up at his squinty eyes and tangled brown hair briefly before turning back to her painting. It just _had _to be perfect. She felt a tap on her shoulder and sighed exasperatedly.

"What is it, Charlie?"

He wrinkled his nose. "That's an ugly painting, Pevensie."

Susan felt heat rush to her cheeks, and she jumped to her feet, little fists balled before she could thing better of it. "It is not!" She cried, drawing glances from the other students and her teacher. She lowered her voice. "What would you know about painting," she asked coolly, temper calming. "You always use clay." She inclined her head toward a pile of mismatched pieces of clay.

He flushed, misunderstanding her observation as an insult. Glaring at his classmate, Charlie swiped his hand through the paint and splattered it at Susan.

The girl yelped, jumping back as her control disappeared and her temper flared. "You…. You… you just wait, Charlie Phillips!" She pointed her finger at him, unable to vocalize her anger.

He laughed cruelly. "Why should I be scared of you, Pevensie? You're a girl _and _a goody-goody. "

In the back of her mind, Susan observed that Mrs. Halloway was busy elsewhere. She _could _slap the boy if she chose to. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and sat down. "I may not be able to do anything here, but I'm going to tell Peter."

Charlie paled slightly, attempting to maintain his intimidating demeanor. "So?" He scoffed. "Your brother's as big a scaredy- cat as you. He'd never dare to mess with me." Charlie puffed up proudly, although now Susan wasn't looking at a scrawny seven-year-old. Instead she found herself staring at a tall, dark-skinned man with an unattractive leer plastered across his face.

"King Peter would never dare to challenge the might of Calormen." He spat the words at Susan.

Susan drew herself to her full height (noting somewhere in the back of her mind that her full height was much taller than usual). Her black hair fell down her back, and her purple skirts swished around her ankles elegantly. "You will watch your tongue, Rabadash," she hissed, eyes focused on his devious expression.

He scoffed at her. "Need I remind you where you are, _Queen _Susan?"

His obvious mocking of her title infuriated her further and she whirled away from him before he could say anything else. She stared out over all of Tashbaan, her nose catching the scent of the exotic Calormene flowers that clung to the stone. They bloomed vibrantly, and she closed her eyes, gathering herself. She had picked this tower for her painting for its wonderful view-- and the hope that Rabadash wouldn't find her. Her eyes flitted to the unfinished painting of Tashbaan, and her face hardened as she turned back to Rabadash.

"You underestimate the power of my royal brothers," she said coolly, thinking of all the other times Peter and Edmund had protected her and their country.

Rabadash's face contorted, but he was cut off as someone else joined them.

"Susan, Charlie, is everything all right?" Susan whirled around to face Mrs. Halloway, feeling the sticky paint that she knew spotted her face. Charlie said nothing and skulked away before Mrs. Halloway could make any more comments. She gave Susan a confused look, and the younger girl offered her a falsely confident smile.

"Do you like my picture, Mrs. Halloway?" She gestured toward the splotchy flower on the paper.

Mrs. Halloway clasped her hands together. "Why, Susan, it's lovely! I've never seen such a flower before. Did you invent it?"

Susan bit her lip in brief confusion, feeling as if she had seen that flower somewhere. She frowned, trying to remember where she had seen such an exotic flower. Certainly not in England! Deciding she must have invented it, she smiled up at her teacher. "I'm giving it to my mum."

Mrs. Halloway patted Susan's dark head. "She'll love it, dear." Her attention was quickly diverted as she heard a cry on the other side of the classroom. "Do excuse me, Susan." She moved away from the girl, crying, "No, no, Alexis! That paste is not for e_ating." _

Susan giggled and then glanced toward where Charlie was molding his clay into the shape of a donkey. For some reason, this struck her as incredibly funny, and she clutched her sides, giggling madly. Finally, after several reproving looks from Mrs. Halloway, Susan was able to calm down and focus on making the finishing touches to her flower. She tilted her head to the side, biting on her lower lip as she surveyed her painting. Her eyes strayed back toward Charlie's donkey, and she clutched her sides, attempting to ward off the coming giggles. Charlie _would _make a donkey. She grinned, wiping her colorful hands on the smock.

"Just wait 'til I tell Edmund and Lucy," she thought happily. "They'll love that."

_Let me know your thoughts! Oh, and I definitely don't own this. Next chapter, Edmund!_


	3. Edmund

_I don't own anything. _

**Chapter Three: Edmund**

Edmund laughed in delight as Peter yanked his arm, pulling him down into the snow.

"Ed! Duck!" A snowball whizzed past his head, and the seven-year-old chanced a glance over the small snow wall he and Peter had built earlier. He saw Susan lob a snowball toward them, and quickly sunk to the ground, scooping up snow to retaliate.

He heard a shriek coming from the girls' fort and grinned as Peter hurled a continuous string of snowballs at their sisters. Making some ammunition of his own, Edmund re-surfaced and threw a snowball toward Lucy's golden head. He laughed deviously as it made contact with her shoulder, and she clutched it in mock-pain.

"Edmund!" She yelled at him, sticking her tongue out childishly.

He opened his mouth to laugh, but gagged instead as a snowball hit him square in the face. "Not fair!" He yelled indignantly, rapidly packing a snowball and lobbing it aimlessly toward his sisters.

He sank to the ground again, breathing deeply behind the safety of the wall. Peter joined him, cheeks rosy and blue eyes sparkling. "We're tromping them, Edmund," he said happily.

Edmund nodded, loving the feeling of camaraderie he felt toward his brother. He was so glad they had taken a trip to the country for Christmas. He felt Peter tense beside him and turned toward him anxiously. "What is it, Peter?"

Peter put a finger to his lips, eyes alert. "Do you hear anything?"

Edmund strained his ears, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't hear anything, Peter. What do you think—" He was cut off by two loud screeches and found himself pushed into the snow.

A bundled-up Lucy straddled his middle, laughing gaily as she pummeled him with snowballs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Susan chasing Peter, and laughed as Peter adeptly dodged his younger sister.

"Lucy!" He yelled, wiggling his body to shake her off.

She shrieked indignantly, throwing another snowball in his face. Edmund grabbed her elbows and flipped her onto her back, gaining the upper hand as he began to mercilessly tickle her. She squirmed beneath him, giggling madly as she attempted to free herself.

"Ed…mund." She gasped, swatting at her older brother's hands.

He grinned. "That's what you get, Lu."

"Children?"

Lucy was saved as their mum called them in. Edmund grudgingly got off of his sister, offering her a hand. He yanked her to her feet, helping her brush the snow off of her coat. Grinning, he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the house, passing their elder siblings, both of whom were covered head to toe in snow.

Edmund exchanged a glance with Lucy and giggled. "What d'ya think happened to them?"

Lucy didn't pause for a moment as she tugged his hand. "I bet Mum's got some hot chocolate for us! Come on!" She giggled, tripping through the snow as she pulled him toward the door.

The youngest Pevensies barged into the warm house, stomping their feet on the mat before stripping off their sopping snow clothes. Edmund wiggled his fingers, feeling them thaw as he sat beside Lucy at the kitchen table. He bit back a giggle as he surveyed her rosy cheeks and tangled hair.

"Lucy! You look like you just lost a snowball fight or something!" He teased her, smiling widely as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"We did not lose, Edmund Pevensie. Just because you and Peter are a big bunch of cheaters…" She narrowed her eyes at him accusingly, and he rolled his eyes.

"You and Susan were the ones who charged us!"

She huffed, and he could tell she was fighting to keep a smile off of her face. "Yeah… well… you're older!"

He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to decide how to retaliate to such a pathetic excuse. She pouted at him, pushing out her lower lip, and now both eyebrows went up. "I'm not Peter, Lu. Or did you forget?"

She stuck her tongue out again, but was saved from having to think up a comeback as Susan and Peter entered the house.

Both of them were grinning widely, and white bits of snow clung to Susan's dark hair. Edmund snickered at her, and she shot him a glare before sitting down across from him. By the time Peter finally untied his boots and unbuttoned his coat and shook out his hair and took off his gloves, Edmund was rather impatient.

"Come on, Peter. Gran moves faster than you do!" Shooting a devilish grin at Susan he added, "So does Susan!" She tried to swat him, but he ducked, winking at a giggling Lucy.

When Peter finally sat down, Helen was placing four mugs of steaming hot chocolate and a plate of Turkish Delight onto the table.

Edmund's face lit up at the sight of his favorite treat, and Helen laughed as her son snagged the first piece of candy. He licked his lips eagerly as his siblings quickly followed his example, sipping at their chocolate and munching on the sweets. Edmund swallowed some chocolate, grinning as the warmth seeped through him. Then, as his mum watched him expectantly, he took the first bite of the Turkish Delight. The sweet candy crumbled in his mouth, and Edmund smiled, wiping his face with his sleeve.

He took a second bite and found that the warm kitchen had dissolved, and he was in a cold, snowy forest.

"It's freezing," he muttered to the woman (if she could be called that) sitting next to him.

She turned to him, lifting his chin and smiling an icily cold smile. "Ah, but you do like your Turkish Delight, don't you?"

Edmund nodded greedily, hoping that this kind lady would soon offer him more of his favorite treat. At home, he _never_ got to eat sweets. Not since the war, anyways. The wintry lady wrapped her fur cloak around him, and though the cold instantly vanished, he felt an unnatural chill seep into his bones. He ignored the feeling, writing it off as the biting cold he had felt before. Instead, he focused on his package of Turkish Delight, rapidly stuffing it into his face as if someone would take what was rightfully his. Edmund's stomach protested, but he paid it no mind, not caring for anything but the enchanting dessert.

"Edmund, do slow down! It's not going anywhere!" Helen's reprimanding voice pulled Edmund out of his reverie, and he looked at the piece of Turkish Delight in his hand. For some reason, it now appeared revolting.

He set it down, feeling his stomach lurch uncomfortably. He shivered, feeling as if the kitchen was no longer as warm as it had been minutes ago. "I… I don't feel so good, Mum."

Helen laughed, and then frowned at her youngest son. "Well I would imagine you don't. Not after you ate all of those sweets. It was as if you thought they were going to disappear if you didn't eat them all _right _that moment."

Edmund frowned, as he felt some warmth seep back into him. Why _had _he felt such a strong need to devour the Turkish Delight? He looked at his siblings' concerned faces, and came back to himself a little, feeling his stomach settle.

"Are you all right, Edmund?" Lucy reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

Edmund nodded, dazed. Although he no longer felt sick, there was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was that same feeling he'd gotten that time he'd accidentally broken Peter's toy sword and blamed Lucy. Dad had called it guilt.

Edmund looked cautiously at the faces of his brother and sisters, but none of them looked angry, only concerned. He began to relax, taking comfort in the feeling of Lucy's hand on his arm. He took a small sip of his hot chocolate, and felt the sickening feeling fade.

"Are you going to finish your Turkish Delight, Edmund?" Susan looked at her little brother skeptically.

He looked at the treat on his plate and shook his head, pushing it toward his sister. "No, you can have it."

As his siblings finished their own sweets, Edmund focused on his hot chocolate, not completely able to shake the inner chill that… that lady had instilled in him.

Several hours later, Edmund found himself seated on the ground as Mum read out of a book of fairy tales. He looked around the room at his siblings, all of whom seemed to be deeply immersed in the story, and smiled. He knew they all loved the story of Hansel and Gretel, though for some reason the part evil witch unnerved him more than usual. He gulped as he visualized the witch lure the children into a trap with her candy house. Although he wasn't sure why, he imagined the witch to be a tall, imperious woman with an icy voice and pale skin. As he thought about the previous events of the day, he remembered the strange instance with the Turkish Delight. Even as he thought of the sweet now, his mouth began to water. He couldn't possibly imagine why he had felt so revolted by it earlier. He sighed heavily, regretting the loss of his favorite dessert. Oh well, he told himself, there's always next time.

_AN: I'm not incredibly fond of this chapter, but I was rather proud of the Hansel and Gretel reference. The original idea was Snow White, but this just seemed to work better. Let me know what you think? Lucy's chapter is next and I'm so excited. It should be the best of the three…. After all, it's Lucy!_

_Lily_


	4. Lucy

**I'm off to Disneyland tomorrow! Yay! But anyhow, here is chapter four, and possibly the last chapter unless I get enough feedback. This one is Lucy and it sort of ties up the four pieces. I really do like this one, so let me know what you think! Thanks. (Oh, and this one, while a glimpse into the future, is also, in a way, currently happening. You'll get what I mean.) **

**Don't own them. **

**Chapter Four: Lucy **

Lucy pressed her nose against the glass wall as she watched the majestic lion pace in front of her. On the other side of the enclosed space she could see his mate, but at that moment she only had eyes for the lion that was not two feet away from her. 

"I do wish I could pet him," she murmured softly, turning to look at Peter who was standing beside her. Further away, on a bench, sat the rest of their family, each of them enjoying an ice cream cone. Lucy had finished hers early and had insisted on coming to see the lions. A quick pout had not only convinced her father, but also persuaded Peter to accompany her. Now, he smiled at her, reaching toward his six-year-old sister with a handkerchief.

"Lucy!" He exclaimed, laughing, "Did you eat any of your ice cream, or is it all on your face?" 

She ducked away from him, dodging the kerchief. "Did you _spit _in it?" The little girl wrinkled her nose, glancing toward her mother. "Mum always does, and she thinks I don't know!" She gave him a knowing look, and Peter found himself biting back a laugh. "But I _do_ know, Peter, and it's positively yucky." 

Peter laughed, handing his sister the handkerchief. "I didn't do anything to it, Lu. I just though you might fancy cleaning up a bit before Mum and Susan come over here and let you have it." 

Lucy rapidly wiped her face, offering the sticky piece of cloth back to her brother. This time, it was his turn to wrinkle his nose. "That's quite all right, Lucy. You keep it. I think I've had enough to do with ice cream for one day." 

Lucy flashed a grin at her eldest brother before stowing the sticky kerchief in a pocket and turning back to the lion. "He _is _wonderful, isn't he Peter?" 

Peter nodded, watching the lion eye his younger sister. "Yes, he most certainly is. Although I'm not sure how well he'd take a hug from a little girl. He might eat you for supper, Lucy!" 

She giggled, but shook her head, sunlight bouncing off of her golden curls. "He's not a mean lion, Peter! Not at all! Can't you tell by his eyes? He's _good."_

She could tell Peter was still skeptical, but knew he would come around eventually. He always did. "I would still love meeting a lion like him face to face without some sort of wall in the way." She frowned at the glass barrier, biting her lip. She looked back to the lion's warm, brown eyes and said, "But, Peter, look how smart he looks. Why he looks almost as if he'd like to say something to me!" 

Peter laughed indulgently, ruffling her hair like he often did. "Well, let me know what he says, Lu!" 

She nodded intently, now certain that he wanted to say something to her. She could just feel it. 

The moment was broken as Edmund raced up behind them, shoes slapping loudly on the pavement. "C'mon. Susan wants to go see the beavers, and I'd like to visit the elephants myself." 

Lucy frowned. "But we can't go yet, Edmund! I'm still waiting!" 

Edmund cocked an amused eyebrow at Peter who merely shrugged. "She's waiting for him to say something." 

Edmund looked at the lion for the first time and gave Peter a startled look. "He _does _look like he wants to say something." 

Lucy whirled around, glaring at her brothers, a finger on her lips. "Shhh! I won't be able to hear him!" 

Her brothers' voices stopped, and the only sound was that of rustling branches and crickets. The moon shone in the night sky, and strangely familiar constellations littered the dark sky. Lucy sighed in delight, breathing in the crisp, sweet air. Around her, trees swayed and she felt the deepest longing, as if something _more _was supposed to happen. And then she saw him, further in the forest. 

"Aslan!" She cried, racing toward him and burying her face in his mane. He purred, and she realized that she had never felt such a joy before. As they walked through the trees, she saw glimpses of wood gods and goddesses bowing to their creator. Suddenly, she remembered her longing. 

"Oh, Aslan, will they ever wake up? They seem so sad and quiet." She was surprised at the passion she felt toward these trees. 

He faced her solemnly, and she marveled at how large he seemed. "Someday, little one, when the time is right." Lucy stared wistfully at the dancing trees but nodded in consent. "Now, child," began Aslan, "you must remember me and this world, for a time will come when you alone will be responsible for the fate of all of Narnia." 

She shivered in delight, wondering what he could be talking about. 

"Can you do this, Dearheart?" 

She furrowed her brow, still puzzled, but then nodded, smiling at the great Lion. "I think I can, Aslan." 

He purred and smiled, breathing on her. "I will see you someday soon, Lucy Pevensie. Always keep good faith, even in the darkest of times." 

The trees faded around her, but Lucy found she was still looking at the same loving face. The lion… Aslan? Gave a nod and moved away from the glass. As he went, she felt as if some of the majesty faded from him. 

"He _can _talk!" she exclaimed excitedly, eyes sparkling as she grinned at her brothers. 

Peter gave her an indulgent smile. "What did he tell you, Lucy?" 

She looked at him, feeling longing and passion at the same time. "The trees…." Her eyes drifted toward the clump of trees behind her parents and Susan. "Come with me!" She cried happily. "He said they'd wake up!" 

Peter couldn't help but laugh at Lucy's excitement and Edmund's laughter as she dragged him along with her. It seemed as if Edmund was always being dragged around by Lucy, yet despite his disgusted looks, Peter knew he loved playing with and teasing their youngest sister. 

The two of them raced by their baffled parents, and Peter was amused to find that Edmund seemed to genuinely believe that this lion had spoken to Lucy. The two of them quickly swept a giggling Susan into their whirlwind, Lucy leading them in some sort of dance. 

Lucy twirled around under a canopy of trees with Edmund and Susan. She paused briefly, remembering the lion and the dancing trees. Sighing, she hugged the trunk of an old tree, pressing her cheek against the scratchy bark. 

"I _do _wish you'd wake up." The tree waved its branches through the air, and Lucy smiled delightedly as the breeze ruffled her hair. "Someday," she whispered the lion's words. 

She heard a shout and opened her eyes to find Peter chasing Edmund. She giggled as her older brothers clashed, fighting each other with sticks. Grinning, she rushed toward them, grabbing a stick of her own. 

"Can I try? Please?" Both Peter and Edmund halted, and Lucy pouted up at them. She directed her attention toward Peter as Edmund began to snigger, aware that pouting had never worked on him. Before Peter could object, Susan whisked her away, twirling her under the trees 

As the greenery whirled around her, she could have sworn she saw the trees dancing with them. The wind picked up, and the leaves floated through the air, landing gently on the four children below. Susan and Lucy laughed giddily, and Lucy sighed in contentment. Sugar was good for her sister; it made her forget to try and be a grown up. She would ask Mum if they could have dessert tonight. Lucy had missed her playmate. 

Now, though, as she played with her brothers and sister under a green canopy, Lucy felt that someday she'd like to live in a forest. After all, she had met…. Him…. in the forest. Warmth spread through her, and she collapsed onto the ground beside her older siblings. Across the way, the lion roared, and the sound seemed to echo across the entire zoo. Around them, the tree branches rustled as if the call of the lion aroused them from a deep sleep. A warm, soothing voice seemed to resonate in her mind, telling her "Someday." She twirled a flower between her fingers and beamed at her siblings.

"Someday," she told them, and though they did not know what she was talking about, they all agreed. 

"Someday." 

**I'm very fond of this chapter and think that it wraps up this quartet rather nicely. If you'd like me to continue, let me know, but otherwise I think that I'm going to be done. I have to get tons of feedback to continue, because I'm rather busy right now. Anyhow, thank you so much for reading and please review! **


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